


NOTIZIE DAL FRONTE the sensual and psychopatic adventures of a pansexual scout

by Mikiri_Tohoshima



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Anal Sex, Canon-Typical Violence, Dubious Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Friendship, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Minor Character Death, Rape/Non-con Elements, Recreational Drug Use, Rimming, Sex Toys, Team Bonding, Team as Family, Trans Character, Underage Sex, Unrequited Crush, Vaginal Fingering, trans!medic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-18
Updated: 2015-08-25
Packaged: 2018-04-15 09:43:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4602045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mikiri_Tohoshima/pseuds/Mikiri_Tohoshima
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some stories about the sexual life of the BLU scout before and after his joining to the Team</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Even in prison you can have great fun!

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [NOTIZIE DAL FRONTE Le avventure sensuali e psicopatiche di uno Scout Pansessuale](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4521642) by [Mikiri_Tohoshima](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mikiri_Tohoshima/pseuds/Mikiri_Tohoshima). 



> I have to thank my friends (Lou and Kan) that helped me translating this piece of finest shit, I hope you english speaker enjoy it how the italian ones did!

_Imagine me and you, I do_  
I think about you day and night  
It's only right  
To think about the girl you love 

Scott McDonagall, sixteen years, a sly smile, his arm laid on the counter and a straw from a great chocolate milkshake in his mouth, followed tapping with his finger to the rythm from the jukebox. He even found himself mumbling it for a while,taking a look at Amanda, his adorable girlfriend, thinking about how he'd have snuck under that yellow petticoat before taking her back home in time for dinner. Life was wondeful.  
It didn't look that wonderful though when a couple of cops came in, heading straight for him.

_And hold her tight, so happy together!_

And life started looking like a fucking hell.

_If I should call you up_  
Invest a dime  
And you say you belong to me  
And ease my mind  
Imagine how the world could be 

Scott McDonagall, sixteen years, in reformatory for vandalyzing the school, breaking every window and even signing the work with his own name. Ok, that was bullshit, but they could have spared him another suspension. He just got pissed off, that's all. So aside from five months in that stinking place, his mother's slap that still burned, he would have to spend the rest of the school year collecting rubbish like a lame janitor.

_So very fine, so happy together!_

Obviously, you could have fun in that damn place. He immediately improvised a baseball bat with a stick, and started smashing any object that was vertically placed. And this, this really bugged his “rieducators”, or whatever the fuck they wanted to be called, to Scott they were nothing but jailers.  
After the last broken chair, he was brought grinning and mocking, in the director's office. He would have been scolded again, and he really didn't give a damn about being scolded, and then off to play the champion again.

“Scott” the old man started, after having him seated, and sending away the guards so as to talk to him alone.  
“Since you got here, you've done nothing but cause trouble. You do know that if you keep being a vandal, you're bound to end in jeopardy, don't you? Well… after all… after how you've grown up… I'm not surprised you came up so wrong.”

Yeah yeah, yada yada yada, but still that douche fell on that subject. He went on his past life. On his mother. Fuck, no, it wasn't his mother's fault, he was just burning inside, his mom was the best person in the world, and the boy jumped up trying to hit the old fucker but he ended up with his face pressed in the desk.  
It hurt him. Hitting his head on that hard surface was painful enough, but Scott wasn't ready for what came next.  
The douche was unbuttoning his pants, pulling them down, and then started spanking him.  
Like, what the fuck? He was no five years old, holy shit! He tried wiggling out of it, but the man's hold on his folded arm was too strong, and after the first slaps… Scott started feeling something strange. Like a warmth in the lower womb. The same warmth he felt when he snuck his head under Amanda's skirt, before fucking her. But here there was a fucking old man spanking him, he didn't see any vaginas around. He was even more confused when his little Scott started standing on its feet, and then… moans started coming out. He bit his tongue, but with every hit, and they were fourteen by now, a moan left his lips, like a little bitch.  
And it looked like the director heard him too, while he went on spanking him, harder and harder…

And then he pushed a finger in his ass.

_I can't see me loving nobody but you_  
For all my life  
When you're with me  
Baby the skies will be blue  
For all my life 

When Scott came out of the director's office, he knew a new thing about himself. And he had another appointment for the next day with the old man who made him come pushing on a certain spot in his ass. They didn't talk for the whole time of the “intervention”, even though Scott did leave a couple of pretty nice moans, also because there was nothing to say at all. That old fuck was treating him the same way he did with Amanda, and Janice and Carla. Apart the pain in the back, and the oblige to eat standing up, that wasn’t really bad. 

_Me and you_  
And you and me  
No matter how they tossed the dice  
It had to be 

The day after he had him sitting on his chair. He pulled the shutters down, locked the door and turned music on. “Turtles” again, “Happy together” again. This time though, it wasn't Scott the one with his head somewhere. On his knees in front of him, he gently pulled his pants down, he kissed his knee, wow it's even romantic shit now, and what he did to him Janice had tried only once, but she said “she didn't want to eat the children”. The director liked a lot eating the children. His knuckles became white for how hard he held on the chair's wooden arms, and the director took care of gagging him with his necktie, that got completely soaked with saliva. This time Scott went back to his cell staggering on his legs, the usual grin on his face. Now he had a weapon against that asshole.

_The only one for me is you, and you for me  
So happy together! _

It went on like that for about a week. He either sucked his dick, licked his ass or mounted him on the desk… hence, Scott was now a slut, but he loved being fucked so much. He loved to move his ass under his tongue, crying from pleasure when he touched his prostate, rubbing his fingers in his few hair when he sucked on his nipples… he got quite a lot of stuff… and he had the best time too.  
Now the time had come to strike back.  
While the director was fucking him after having him lay down on the desk, Scott crossed his legs on his waist, kissed his cheek, and then, whispered in his ear.

“I want to get out of here. I wanna go home. I'm tired of this shitty place… and you'll write a nice certificate of good behavior so I'll be free as the wind.”  
“But baby, hey, I can't do that. I mean... yeah, we're having fun, and I want to give you presents too, but… this is too much...”  
Scott smiled sadly, tightening his cheeks while he came.  
“I see… I'm afraid I'll have to do this then.”  
And he started screaming.

_I can't see me loving nobody but you_  
For all my life  
When you're with me  
Baby the skies will be blue  
For all my life 

The reporters were merciful with the poor victim, and avoided mentioning his name in the many articles that made that man's life a living hell, even though, for his actions, he was sent to jail to “receive what that poor creature was subjected to”.  
Scott got what he wanted, he was free now, although he now had to be pretty careful. But he wouldn't destroy the school windows anymore. Now he had a far better hobby.

Life was wonderful.


	2. We have more fun, on top of the Pru

He must have been on the 30th floor of the Pru, the well-known skyscraper in front of which he strolled every morning on the way to school. He was dressed as usual, with a coat because of the glacial cold, fucking December and the snow falling, he entered the skyscraper, looking around himself, a bit lost. He immediately went to the lift, damn, thirty floors on foot, even though he was in good shape, really didn't sound appealing, so he waited for the ride. Quietly whistling.

Once he was there he lost his hat, fixed hir blond hair, and proceeded down the corridor, looking for the apartment that his instructions mentioned. He was beginning to be a bit nervous, after all, he had never been in such a place, and in the end, when he found the right door, maybe, he held his breath, jumped in the spot a couple times and then knocked, three times.

The wait was barely bearable… but right after five minutes the door opened.

“Pretty boy!” You managed to come!” Scott smiled, faning himself with his hat, it was crazy hot in there, and opened his arms.

“Well yeah! It wasn't that hard.”  
The man in front of him shook his head, laughing, while he came in, and the door was closed behind him.

“I'm not twenty-one yet, I can't drink..:” but a glass appeared in his hand all the same, while the man got his jacket off, although he went a bit too long in a caress while doing it.  
“Come on, you're with an adult, nothing bad's gonna happen..:”  
Scott sighed, half laughing. Yeah… nothing bad's gonna happen…

He really had no idea what his host's name was. He didn't even know what was his job. He was an averagely tall man, bulky, with a slim black moustache and a nearly shiny head. They met the night before, in Scott's “favorite” club, even though he never got in yet.  
You needed a card, and for the card you needed eighteen dollars and fifty dollars, and he had none of them. He was arguing with the bouncer about that, when he felt a furry arm around his shoulders, and the pungent smell of a cigar.

“Let him in George, he's with me.”  
And together they crossed the doors of the club. Everything was… amazing. There were people dancing, drinking, puking and making out. His host guided him to a circle of couches, while listening to the music from the radio.  
“Listen, I… thank you for letting me in, but I don't think we know each other or...”  
The man smiled at him, pushing his cigar in an ashtray.  
“Introductions are for common people, blue eyes. I immediately saw, out there, that you were special. Would you like to spend some time with someone? I can see it from the way you talk, the way you move… you're not a common guy, pretty boy.”  
His compliments flattered Scott a lot, even though he didn't quite get the “spend some time with someone” part, but he didn't really care at that time. After a couple minutes, the man raised a hand, pointing at the dancefloor.

“Go and dance, pretty boy, you're not my pet dog, you don't have to sit in my lap all day:”  
But before he left, he put a folded paper in his hand.  
“And if you want... pay me a visit tomorrow. I'll be there, and maybe there will be some fun for you.”

Scott couldn't ask for better, and he got the paper in his pocket, went dancing, having a great time. When he went back to the couches his benefactor was gone, but he left in him a great curiosity.

For that reason he was now in that apartment, the man's hands on his behind. Not that he minded, but a warning would've been better.

“L... listen… I don't think you…”  
“Oh come on, I saw that you're a little fag. You move your ass like a girl, like you wanted to be spanked by everyone.”

But he immediately moved away his hands, lifting them so he could see them.

“I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I usually don't act like this.” Then he lent him his hand.  
“My name's Henry. You can call me like that. I made you come here… because you're really cute. And because I've got money, boy. Tons of them. I won't tell you what I do, but be sure what I do brings me a lot of money.”  
Scott, staying far from him, crossed his arms on the chest, unsure about what was going on.

“So you're telling me that you like me and you have money. I don't see how these two...”  
Then he connected the dots, being a smart kid. And immediately a big sly smile appeared on his face.

“I see now. I'm not a whore. I don't want your money so you can fuck me.”  
And made to leave, but Henry stopped him, holding his wrist.

“I'm not going to fuck you for money, pretty boy. I'd like to fuck you, yes, but not if you don't want to. I just want to… support you. And your presence… your company. I can pay you a thousand dollars to hold my hand. Five thousand if you allow me to kiss you, and so on. I know it sounds crazy but… since I can afford it, I proposed it.”  
Scott looked at him again, pulling his wrist back. In the end, that man wasn't asking anything that bad. So, he smiled at him. He felt a huge bitch to put conditions but… he had to.

“I don't want a thousand dollars to hold your hand. Let's lower the prices. You give me what I want. And I'll give you what you want.”

And the contract was sealed with a kiss and a toast.  
A kiss that went on to the bedroom, where Scott got slowly undressed of his shorts, his gilet and his shirt, and was only left with his boxers, socks and undershirt on. He was slightly panting, laying on those white sheets, looking at Henry getting undressed… then, he grabbed one of his legs… and started kissing his foot, at first with light touches, and then licking his soles, getting his socks wet. Scott retracted his leg, a bit confused, and made a sly smile.

“Hey… this thing kinda grosses me out… I think it's worth that thousand dollars you were talking about.”  
The man grabbed his wallet from his pants, threw some bills on him, and then went back to his foot, licking and kissing it, sucking his feet, tasting his sock, that after a walk in uptown, must have been really delicious. Scott didn't understand, and never would have, these people. But now he was rolling in money.

And he was also fucked in it, while Henry got rid of his boxers, and spent a full quarter of hour making him cry and moan while he licked and fingered his anus. It would always have been his weak spot, he knew that, and when they finally got to the point, wow, Henry fucked him heavenly. He had a not so long penis, Scott had seen at least three by now, and this wasn't even in the last place, but he made him moan loudly, and when he came inside of him, the man went back down to lick and finger him, as if he wanted to get his semen back. That wasn't a problem to Scott. He only wanted to come.

He recovered his clothes and his money, left him with a kiss, threw a new hundred dollar bill in his pocket, and went back to his normal life. He didn't feel taken advantage of. He didn't feel like a whore. And he wasn't even desperate. With that money he'd have offered a romantic dinner to his mom, and he'd have put aside a secret college stash.  
And he also had another meeting with that wealthy man, on top of the Pru.


	3. A trip in the country

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be some racial slurs, but, really, I don't agree about using them in the real life. If there's something that bothers you, please let me know and I'll change immediately. In this chapter there will be the rape.

He'd been driving for hours, looking for an isolated place. He didn't listen to the radio, he tapped on the wheel for the whole time, pushing on the throttle. Thoughts went and came in his mind, while he thought about what to do. He had a vague idea on where to go, even though he had never gotten so far from the city. He stopped only once to get fuel, drink a coke, and then onwards again. A memory jumped on his mind, and he let take control of him, while the houses vanished.

He was happy. He fucked and got money. It almost seemed like Henry loved him. He spoiled him, satisfying every fancy he had, and when he needed help he never backed down. They never went out together, to avoid scandals, but even in secrecy, Scott knew he was the only one in Henry's heart. Sometimes he held him tight when he could stay the night, so Scott stroke caressed his almost bald head, and listened to his breathe. One day, after he had agreed to be blindfolded to make love, he found a wonderful, black, car on the ground floor. And a note. It was for him.

He woke up suddenly, holding tightly the steering wheel. Once he arrived on the designated place, he had slipped in the dream world. He rubbed his eyes, and left the car, looking around himself. He was in a field… a huge field, and the nothingness was around him. He stretched his back, pulled every joint, and got rid of his jacket. He folded it and put it back in the car. Then he pulled out an aluminum bat he brought.

After his request to blindfold him, he asked to bind him, and Scott agreed again, finding it quite exciting. And the presents became bigger. He had to buy a suitcase to keep his secret stash. Luckily his mother was the discreet type, that she didn't worry about where was he getting his money. She only knew that he “worked” for someone, helping him, and she was proud. She didn't know that sometimes her son's socks disappeared, that he sometimes came home with a limp, and that he wasn't seeing any girl anymore.

The first window's glass shattered on the impact. And the same did all the others, together with the front window. Scott jumped on the hood, breaking the sunroof. He then destroyed the doors, hitting with increasing strength, and had to stop a couple seconds to bandage his bloody hands. He wasn't used to such a physical effort. But he had to go on. He tore apart the seats, crushed the hood, destroyed the engine. He didn't touch the wheel because he'd have risked to hurt himself, with the bounce. When the car looked enough like a crushed can, he decided to open the trunk.

He had become friends with Henry's bodyguards. Specially with Mike, the biggest, the blackest, and the baddest when it came to push away anyone who bothered his employer. But he was very gentle with Scott, he told him many stories about niggers, and Scott always laughed like crazy. Although it was a hard time for Mike's “brothers”, he didn't pay too much attention to that. He led Henry's security operations, had a pretty good salary, and a gorgeous wife named Carla, beautiful as the sun. Scott met on a day that she came to bring her “gorilla” lunch and Scott had never seen before such a beautiful, shining and cheerful black woman. She was a singer. She tried to invite the boy to one of her concerts, but Scott knew that his mom wouldn't have been okay with it… When Scott was done talking to the guards, Mike always said goodbye messing his hair up with his big hands, he called him “bonkboy” because since Scott found that drink for sale, he never stopped drinking it. And one day, as usual, before heading to Henry's place he stopped to greet the guards. Mike put a can in his hand, and messed his hair up.  
“Have fun, Bonkboy” he said, letting him in. Scott smiled happily, crossing the door. But he wasn't ready to face Henry and his unexpected fury.

Two eyes blinded by sunlight were looking at him frightened. A mouth sealed with a gag made out two socks. Two hands with broken and bloody fingernails because of his escape attempts, and the palm bruised for beating on the trunk. Scott looked at him from head to toes, placing the bat between his legs, pointing at the wet stain that was getting wider.

“Gross, old man. You really couldn't keep it? You've only been in there for two days… well, I can't bring it anywhere anymore, this wreck.”

he grabbed him for the binds on his wrists, pulling him out of the trunk. He then pulled him, grunting for the effort, until they were far enough from the car, but not too much. He forced him on his knees, in the dirt, and walked around him, hitting him softly on the elbows, the forehead, the groin… he even spat on him. Then, pulling the bat back, he asked.  
“Any last words?”

When Scott woke up, he was tied to the bed. He was gagged too, but he didn't agree to that, this time. He felt like he'd been sleeping for days...and he also had an awful headache. It was dark outside… he could barely see the lamplights. And standing, in front of him , there was Henry, holding a rope.

“Pretty boy… I thought there was something between us… something more than money to keep us together. I thought I was the only one for you. I thought you… you loved me. And that you'd have never cheated on me, Pretty boy. Still, I didn't think you'd be such an idiot as to… be fucked by an animal!”  
He pulled the rope, and Mike came in the room. He was naked, he'd been hit, he had a black eye, from what Scott could see he was full of bruises, with a broken arm. The boy started getting upset, incredulous. No, what happened? He had never been with Mike, they were very close, but…  
Obviously he couldn't say anything, gagged as he was, but tears started pouring out his eyes. Henry laughed, at that pathetic show, teasing Mike.

“Oh, are you sad by how I treated your lover? Do you miss him? Don't worry, baby… I'll allow you to have a last farewell...”  
He then pulled out a gun. He pointed it to the black man, his eyes as thin as cracks, and loaded the shot.

“Fuck your little friend.”  
He ordered. Mike tried to reply but the man hit him on the broken arm, making him scream from pain.  
Scott shook his head, terrified, while the former bodyguard climbed on the bed and got his penis hard, to stick it inside of him.  
The boy screamed in pain, curving his back, pulling the ropes on his wrists, more tears rolled down his cheeks, while Mike moved quickly inside him. When he came, Scott was only screaming, crying from pain, feeling sperm and blood coming out of him. Why did Henry's jealousy have to be so destructive?

He looked up when he heard a click. His former lover put the barrel of the gun on the black man's head.

“Go to hell, you ape.”  
And he pulled the trigger.

Scott was covered in blood and brain matter and then Mike's headless corpse, still stiff inside him. He found one of his hands was unbound, and he grabbed that lifeless body, weeping. Henry didn't notice it, he was already back in the kitchen to get a glass of Brandy. So the boy untied his binds, got pants back on, and walked slowly out of the room. Henry was giving his back, talking between himself and the glass. Scott grabbed a bottle from the table.

“Go to hell, you animal”. And laid a hit on the man's head.

Scott had never smoked in his life. He had no intention of starting either, but right then, looking at the blue sky, he felt the need to have a smoke. Henry tried to teach him, but the boy was more worried about his sport career than looking cool in clubs. Maybe neither of the two things would've happened, anyway. After lighting it up, he huffed a couple times, coughing and spitting like an old lady. He looked at the stick disgusted, and threw it in front of himself, taking a step back. The cigarette, hitting the fuel that was around the corpse of the car, made a huge flame. Scott looked at the fire, throwing the bag with the bloody clothes in it.

He yawned, walking towards the street. Maybe he had been a bit impulsive, maybe… maybe he shouldn't have killed him. But he killed his dignity. He killed a husband, a friend, a father, just for his perversion. He regretted leaving the baseball bat. He would've bought another one. Then he remembered that his money were in the bag too, the money he had earned with his ass and mouth and socks. He had to buy new socks too. He needed a job.


End file.
